


You've Created Something Within Me

by keekar



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Bucky Barnes, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Slow Burn, steve rogers wants to work on wall street, talk of past CSA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:26:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24415087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keekar/pseuds/keekar
Summary: Steve has always wanted to work on Wall Street, and with just one year left at NYU his dream looks set to become a reality - so why can't he seem to get it together and focus?Whilst attending an exhibition opening with his girlfriend Peggy and her fellow fine art students, he meets an artist who may be able to provide an answer to his question.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so this is the first fic I have written in around 15 years! (Lockdown made me do it!)
> 
> I love reading Stucky fics and have had this idea for a while now, so thought what the hell, i'm gonna go for it!
> 
> So please be kind, and I welcome and helpful comments.

“Come on man we’re gonna be late!”

Steve quickened his pace, dodging puddles that the heavy rain was forming on the sidewalk. He came to a stop behind Bruce at the crosswalk, the two of them waiting for the sign that would indicate that they could continue on their journey. As soon as the sign flashed WALK, Bruce was off again like a shot.

“Dude my feet are getting soaked! Wait up!” Steve shouted above the traffic and the rain.

Bruce slightly turned his head to ensure that Steve could hear his reply, but he did not look back. “Even more reason to hurry up then!”

The two of them continued along the block, travelling as speedily as possible whilst doing their best to avoid other pedestrians who were crowding the streets that evening, until finally, they reached the gallery.

It didn’t look like much, just another shop front, a small black door framed by two huge windows, which allowed Steve to sneak a peek at what was waiting for them inside. He could see that the gallery was deceptively large, as whilst narrow, the view he had of the ceiling revealed that the room continued deep into the building, but he could not see just how far due to the large crowd of people in the way.

After holding the door open for a couple who were leaving, Steve and Bruce finally made it inside, out of the rain and into the warmth, and were greeted almost immediately by a man who was asking if they wanted to check their coats.

“Oh my God yes, thank you.” Steve answered as he shrugged out of his coat, fake whining as he peeled the sopping material down his arms, whilst following the helper over the cloakroom and turning to Bruce; “I thought I was going to have to walk around all night drenched, and let me tell you, there is no amount of free champagne that would have made that fun.”

“And the cheese Steve, don’t forget Peggy said there would be free cheese.” Bruce reminded him as they ditched their coats.

“Yeah well there’d better be some left because I am hungry, do people even eat at these things? I have no idea?”

“Ahh yes, let me think back to all the other exhibit opening nights I’ve been to over the years, oh wait I can’t because I haven’t been to any.”

“Ok man you’ve made your point,” Steve says whilst scanning the room, “let’s go and find Peg.”

The two of them set off into the crowd, nabbing two flukes of champagne for their exploration. Steve noticed that despite the white walls, the room wasn’t as brightly lit as it seemed from the outside, which was a welcome after the day he had had.

After drinking so heavily the night before had felt in a pretty poor state this morning, but hey, Thursday was the new Friday! And Thursday nights in NYC were like no other. Turns out though that Friday mornings with a hangover are just like any other morning with a hangover, meaning Steve was in no way mentally prepared for his Hedge Fund Strategies lecture with well know hard-ass Professor Fury, or for life in general.

Firstly, he vomited in a trash can on the way to his lecture, which made him late for said lecture. Then he fell asleep in the lecture before finally being spectacularly kicked out of that lecture.

_“ROGERS!”_

_Steve startled awake to see Professor Fury glaring at him, his visible eye twitching with rage._

_“Stand up and get the fuck out of this room NOW!”_

_“Sir I am so sorry,” Steve stuttered embarrassed, “I just…”_

_“I just don’t give a shit about what ever lame-ass excuse you’re about to come up with. This is your final year Rogers and you’re still behaving like a fucking freshman, if you have no self-discipline maybe a career in finance just isn’t for you. You wanna sleep? Do it on your own time, now like I said, stand up and get the fuck out of this room now.”_

Steve cringed at the morning’s memory.

He really did need to start getting his shit together.

It was already mid-November; he was nearly halfway through his final year at NYU and it seemed that life was coming at him fast.

“Steve! Steve!”

Steve turned to see his girlfriend Peggy waving and calling him over, she was in a crowd of people, some of who he recognised.

He greeted her with a kiss and Peggy grabbed him into a huge hug. She was hugely tactile, something he adored about her. His Mom was a hugger too and being on the receiving end of one her great big bear hugs was something he had missed greatly after she had passed away 5 years earlier when he was just 18.

Steve had met Peggy a little over 12 months ago at a party of mutual friend in the East Village, and whilst it was her beauty that had immediately attracted Steve to her, it was her affectionate nature that had made him want to commit – which was a first for him.

“Hey…beautiful…how…are…you?” He said whilst continually pressing little kisses to her lips – God he had become soppy.

“I’m good I’m good, just let me introduce you to some people, Oh Hi Bruce I didn’t see you there!” Peggy broke free from Steve’s embrace to quickly give Bruce a kiss and a hug, before turning back to the group of people she had been standing with.

“Guys…erm…guys!” Peggy spoke loudly but didn’t shout, and slowly heads began to turn, breaking their conversations to give Peggy their full attention. “Sorry, I just wanted to introduce my boyfriend Steve, I know I go on about him a lot so…here he is! Steve this is everybody, everybody this is Steve…. OH AND BRUCE!” Peggy pulled Bruce over to stand in front of her “…this is Steve’s friend Bruce! “

Both Steve and Bruce waved at the group, and Steve felt like he was on display almost. Some of the group waved back before returning to their busy conversations, whereas some didn’t acknowledge him at all and again just returned to their busy conversations. That was something Steve had noticed about Peggy and her fellow Fine Art students, that the illusion of Art seems to be quiet and personal, yet they always seemed to be talking.

Two girls Steve recognised made their way over.

“Steve you remember Wanda and Maria, don’t you?”

“I do, how are you both?” Steve smiled, and both he and Bruce exchanged hugs and air kisses with the girls – air kisses were so uncomfortable, something that Steve will never get used to, is he supposed to make a kiss noise? Or just hover his cheek next the other persons cheek?

“We’re good thanks Steve, its lovely to see you…both of you.” Wanda spoke cautiously. Steve remembered that the last time she and Bruce had seen each other they were both drunk and had their tongues shoved down each other’s throats, he wondered if the had spoken since then, as neither of them seemed capable or speaking now.

Thankfully, Wanda broke the awkward silence. “Erm…Have you taken a look at the exhibition yet?”

“Not yet,” Bruce answered, “Steve insisted we come straight over and find Peg”

The girls all cooed whilst Steve pulled Peggy to his side.

“What can I say? I just wanted to see my best girl.”

“Erm, I better be your own girl Rogers,” Peggy teased as she pressed herself against his front, pulling her arms tightly around his waist whilst lifting her chin to look up at him. He grinned back; she really was so incredibly beautiful.

“So, who is this guy again? The guy whose exhibition it is I mean” Steve heard Bruce asked beside him.

“He’s one our tutors ex-students,” Maria answered, “see that lady over there with the red hair? That’s Natasha.”

Steve and Bruce followed Maria’s index finger to see where she was pointing and sure enough, they spied a woman with red hair, who Steve guessed must be in her forties or thereabouts.

“That’s your tutor? She is Hot!”

Steve rolled his eyes to himself and he could see Wanda do the same before turning to Bruce.

“What a wonderful observation Bruce, please tell us more.”

Bruce avoided her gaze looking at Steve for help. Steve just shook his head – Bruce was on his own.

“Anyway, what I was saying before I was interrupted,” Maria continued, “Is that James is one of Natasha’s ex-students, I mean he literally only graduated last summer, and just look what he has achieved already.”

Steve’s curiosity was piqued.

“So, is he like really good, or was there favouritism involved, or something else? Like how did he get this exhibition in such a short time?”

“He’s just that good Steve,” Peggy sighed, “I told you, when you’re in your final year, SVA twice arrange for our work to be displayed in the studios for dealers and curators to come look at, Bucky had his work snapped up on the first day of the first display slot,” She turn to her friends, “I can’t hardly believe we’ll have to do the same this time next year.”

“Bucky? Who the hell is Bucky? I though you said his name was James.” Steve asked.

Now it was Peggy’s turn to roll her eyes, “He is called James, James Barnes. But everyone calls him Bucky. Oh, that’s him there! Over there by that display table. He’s amazing Steve, he really is.”

Steve looked over at the man his girlfriend was pointing to.

He was wearing a red Henley, with dark blue jeans and black Doc Marten’s. His long hair was pulled from his face, a face that Steve could see was easy on the eye.

He was very clearly an attractive man.

And Steve’s girlfriend had just called him amazing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Peggy make their way around the exhibit and Steve finds himself particularly effected by a piece of James Barnes' art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so here is chapter two. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone thus far who has given it a read.

Steve and Peggy made their way around the exhibition taking, in the different works of art that James Barnes had created. It was abundantly clear that he was very talented, and what Steve found most interesting was that he didn’t stick to just one medium, the exhibition including paintings, sketches, sculptures and even some photography.

“Are artists usually good at everything?”

“Some yes, it’s not common though, most artists prefer to perfect a certain style or aesthetic, like me, I feel comfortable using certain materials and it makes…my paintings feel like… well they feel like me, does that make sense?”

It didn’t completely make sense to Steve, but he appreciated her sharing how she felt. Peggy worked strictly with water colours and she was incredible and what she did. Steve could never understand how she knew just how much water and paint to use in order to create the correct colour or shade she needed, or how applying a certain level of pressure with a brush could result in just the right sized mark she wanted. On Sunday mornings, she would always paint, regardless of any plans they had or what they had been up to the night before. He loved lying in bed watching her get lost in her work. Sunday mornings were the times she dedicated to painting ‘for her’ - she was not painting for school, she wasn’t completing an assignment, it was purely because she loved to do so.

Steve, however, wasn’t like Peggy, he had never felt creative in his life, and had really struggled at school in subjects that required him to be. He sucked at art and design, and even found writing his own stories difficult. He seemed to over think everything, and when his teachers would tell him to relax and open his mind, it just made him feel more closed off and frustrated.

Yet he had excelled in math, in fact he had really _enjoyed_ math; solutions that required right and wrong answers that weren’t open to interpretation, yes, that is what Steve liked. So, when it came to making a decision about what he would study at college, and subsequently build a career in, finance seemed to be a no brainer.

He had never really had any money growing up, so the prospect of a career that would potentially allow him to have lots of the stuff was thrilling. His dad had died when he was just a baby and his Mom had found raising him as a single parent in Brooklynsometimes difficult financially, but hey, they were affluent in other ways.

As it was just the two of them, Steve and his Mom had shared an incredibly close relationship, looking back now, he cannot remember a time when they had argued, even during his stereotypical teenage years when he sulked around the house, growing from a frail young boy to a built young man. Steve had not only loved his Mom but he had respected her too, a hardworking nurse who, after long days working to care for those in hospital, offered care and support to the vulnerable in their community, whilst always having time for her son.

Sarah Rogers had been a formidable force, hence why Steve found it especially hard watching her deteriorate so quickly after her cancer diagnosis – it had killed her in just four short months and by the end she had barely resembled the mother that her knew. She had died in the August after he had turned eighteen, meaning Steve was considered old enough to be making his own way in the world, but the reality was, had never felt less capable in his life.

He had originally intended on attending The University of Pennsylvania to study, they had an excellent finance school which was considered to be the best in the country, and it acted as a feeder school, sending its best students straight to Wall Street. But when it came time to make the move, he found that he just couldn’t leave the city where he was raised - the only connection he has left to his family. He had deferred his place for a year, began working in a bakery in Red hook and spent his evenings drinking alone in the apartment he had shared with his mother, sometimes seeking comfort in the arms of an older, single Mom who had lived two floor up - when his misery coincided with her children spending the night at their father’s place that is.

The following academic year,Steve still did not ready to move, and Pennsylvania University eventually withdrew his place.

Phil Coulson, his boss at the bakery, had been furious.

“Are you kidding me? What’s the plan Steve, stay working here your entire life?”

“No of course not! I’m just…I can’t leave New York...” Steve lowered his head and stared at the ground, “I don’t want to leave New York.”

Steve was perched on a mountain of flour bags, they were piled at the back door of the Bakery having just being delivered. He was smoking a cigarette, a habit he had developed after his Mom’s passing.

“So don’t leave. There are plenty of schools here in New York that can offer you the same course. Stay. Just don’t give up.”

With Phil’s support, Steve had applied for NYU and had been thrilled upon receiving his letter of acceptance. He could stay in New York, the place that felt like home, and he could still build a life for himself.

And he has. He still works and the bakery at the weekends and focuses on his studies through the week. His time at NYU has really helped him through his grief. It has given him purpose again, hope even, and provided him with an abundance of new relationships, not just with Peggy, but with Bruce and his fellow finance students. He really had made the best out of truly shitty situation.

Soon though, his time at NYU would end, and life as he knew it, the life he was comfortable in, would alter permanently.

Steve and Peggy continued to wander around the gallery hand in hand, stopping every now and then so Peggy could take a good look at a piece of James Barnes' work. Try as his might, Steve just didn’t understand art, in particular some of the more abstract pieces. But the exhibition had a nice balance of works that he just didn't get and the ones where he could just about work out what it was, so he wasn't feeling completely helpless.

Steve listened as Peggy described how she felt while they observed a sculpture that was displayed on a white table in the middle of the room. It was made of barbed wire and appeared to depict a figure caged within a large ball. The figure inside was slender, long, and curved, and the wire from which it was made had been manipulated to appear smooth. This was a stark a contrast to the cage that surrounded it, which was harsh, jagged, sharp, and Steve could not work out how Barnes had managed to get the figure inside it without cutting himself to ribbons.

Steve liked this piece, he felt like he understood how the figure felt. The idea of feeling trapped or stuck somehow, or even how it felt to be surrounded by anger.

Wow. Who knew?

Maybe Steve could interpret art.

He turned from the table, Peggy by his side, and was greeted by another piece of James Barnes art hanging on the white wall in front of him.

This one was a painting and it gave Steve a strange feeling in his stomach.

The piece was grey, black and red in colour, it was large and imposing, and it was like he could smell it almost. He couldn’t quite work out what the painting meant, but to Steve it looked like there was a person standing amongst the flames, a monster buried deep inside them. He couldn’t look away.

“STEVE!”

He turned to look at Peggy who was standing next to him expectantly, clearly this wasn't the first time she had called his name..

“Shall we make our way back over? Save Wanda and Bruce from having to make any more awkward conversations with one another?” She laughed and kissed his shoulder, resting her head on him as she to stared at the painting.

“Erm yeah, I’ll follow you though, I’m just going to look at this for a little bit longer.”

“Ok, well, when you’re ready.”

Peggy nodded and began to walk away backwards, stretching out their arms as she clung to his hand. He knew that she was understanding how he felt and was just leaving him to it, letting him take in the painting. They’d visited many galleries over the past twelve months, and he would always allow her plenty of time to take in any artwork she felt particularly drawn to. She clearly didn't have the same feelings towards this one as Steve did. He was mesmorised.

Steve turned back to the painting; he noticed a small title on the wall just to the left of the painting highlighting its name.

_That Sunday._

Steve liked the name. it was straight to the point and unpretentious, he longed to know what it meant though.

As he continued to take in the work, he began to notice aspects that we hadn’t seen before. The painting was textured, some parts of it smooth whereas some of the darker parts were thick and bumpy, it also appeared to have been singed in parts and Steve wondered if that’s what he could smell, _burnt._

But it was the person in the middle of the fire that Steve was most drawn to. A long figure - not unlike the figure in the cage, but this person appeared to be made of ash. The figure had no recognisable features except for a pair of piercing grey eyes that Steve felt bore into him. He felt like he’d seen these eyes before, like they knew him somehow.

As Steve’s eyes trailed down, he came to the blackened smudge that was placed within the figure’s stomach. This had no eyes, just teeth, and Steve felt as though it was grinning at him.

He hated it.

Hated the monster.

It made his stomach turn, made him feel sick with anger, he wished it didn’t exist. He really felt for the figure having to live with this creature inside him, amongst the anger and sickness he began to feel utterly sad, evidenced by a tear he felt run down his cheek.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath.What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d never had such a visceral reaction to a piece of art before, he needed to look away.

He used his finger and thumb to squeeze away any unwanted tears that were left in his eyes and turned away from the painting. It was then he noticed that James Barnes was stood around 10 feet away looking at him sheepishly.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment or two, which began to make Steve feel hugely uncomfortable. He’d been caught crying at a painting by the artist of that painting, he was sure he was now going to have to have a conversation where this guy would ask him to explain how he felt and why.

Steve averted his eyes and looked at the floor, before beginning to turn away.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I wasn’t staring I promise.”

Steve looked back to see James Barnes holding out his hand and stepping forward cautiously. Steve stayed put and Barnes began to continue with his explanation.

“I saw you looking at the painting for a while and was just about to come over, but then I noticed you were…well…” He began gesturing with his hand, “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“No, it’s fine, I’m not usually a person who has any kind of reaction to a piece of art,” Steve couldn’t meet the other man’s eye and looked at his feet instead, “But, you know.”

It was at this point that Steve felt confident enough to look up and it was evident from Barnes’ face that he did indeed ‘know’.

The two of the stood there, the silence becoming more awkward by the second, why could Steve think of anything to say? Thankfully, he didn’t have to.

“Erm, you’re with SVA group, right? The second years?” James pointed over to where Peggy and her friends were congregated.

“Yes. Well no.” Steve replied, and James began to look confused. “I mean I’m _with_ them but I’m not one of them, I’m just here with my girlfriend, who _is_ one of them, I don’t study art.” Steve got there in the end.

“Oh ok. So, what do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a student too, I study finance at NYU.” James raised an eyebrow in response.

“Oh yeah, definitely not an art student then.”

“ _Definitely_ not.” Steve agreed. “I can barely hold a fucking pencil!” This caused James to laugh out loud and confidently take another step forward, holding his hand out for Steve to shake.

“I’m Bucky. Well, no, I’m James.” Bucky rolled his eyes and cringed as Steve shook his hand. “Sorry, I go by Bucky, but my agent says that James sounds more professional, aaand it now appears I’ve reached a point in my life where I actually don’t know my own name.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to laugh.

“It’s fine, if you prefer Bucky, I will call you Bucky. I’m Steve by the way.”

“Steve.” Bucky repeated.

They had been shaking each other’s hand for too long a time and that awkward silence had once again reared its head. Steve never had any problems making conversations, _ever_ , so why was he finding it so difficult now. He laughed slightly and let go of Bucky’s hand, unsure of what he should now do with his own.

They both spoke at the same time.

“I should be getting back to Peg.” “So, you like the painting?”

Steve immediately felt awful. He had been feeling all kinds of anxious about his sudden inability to speak and just wanted to escape. Bucky clearly wanted this conversation to continue.

“Oh Sorry, you need to get back, I won’t keep you.”

“No, it’s fine I …”

Bucky smiled, looking past Steve and nodding,“I think she’s looking for you anyway.”

Steve followed Bucky’s eye-line and turned to see Peggy looking over quizzically. It was clearly time for Steve to head back over there.

Upon turning back, he was greeted by Bucky smiling and nodding.“It was nice to meet you Steve.”

“It was nice to meet you too Bucky.”

And with that, the artist turned and began to walk away.

But Steve couldn’t let him leave without letting him know.

“Bucky?” Steve watched as the other man spun back around, as he struggled to swallow the saliva that was building in his mouth. “I just wanted to say…” He swallowed again. “This painting is phenomenal, I… I just wanted to tell you that.”

And Steve meant it, he really did think the painting was phenomenal.

Bucky nodded and looked at the ground, Steve recognised that feeling. He was uncomfortable.

“Thanks Steve.” he responded in earnest, before taking one last glance at Steve then disappearing into the crowd.

Steve sighed to himself and then headed back over to Peggy and her friends.

**********************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Later that night, Peggy and Steve lay in her bed, their naked bodies wrapped together in post coital bliss. Steve couldn’t stop thinking about the painting, _That Sunday_.

“His work is pretty dark isn’t it? James Barnes.” He let his head fall to the side to look at her and she rolled onto her side to get a better look at him, resting her head on her arm.

“I thought I saw you talking to him.” Peggy Beamed. “I’ve never actually spoken to him what’s he like? Tell me everything!”

Steve considered her question for a moment.

“He’s…surprising.”

Peggy’s eyebrows knitted together in a frown; she clearly hadn’t expected that response.

“Surprising? How so?”

“Well I mean he’s friendly, but like i said his art just seems so dark, its like they don't match.”

Peggy wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head upon his chest.

“He was abused as a child you know. He did an interview with New York Magazine where he talked about how art had always been an escapism for him at that time, yet also a way to communicate how he felt. Maybe that’s what you could sense when you looked at his work?”

Steve didn’t respond, he couldn’t.

He just stared at the ceiling, as the anger, sickness and sadness – those feelings he felt whilst stood in front of the painting slowly began building inside him once again. He hated that Bucky had been subjected to that.

Steve had struggled to fall asleep after that. But when he eventually did.

He dreamed of the ashen figure and its piercing grey eyes.


End file.
